


Walk From Here

by muiscorex



Category: Voltron - Fandom, Voltron: Legendary Defender, klance - Fandom, vld - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Awkward Flirting, Dirty minds, F/F, F/M, Gay, How Do I Tag, I'm Sorry, Jokes, Keith/Lance - Freeform, Kinda, M/M, Paralysis, Rushed Story, Sexual Situations, Smut, This is an emotional rollercoaster, ack, and fluff, billie eillish is in this a lot, klance, legs don't work lmao, lots and lots of angst, lots of fluff, m/m - Freeform, sorry it's my first fic, yeehaw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2019-12-30 03:13:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18307040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muiscorex/pseuds/muiscorex
Summary: A story where Lance loses all feeling in his legs and he has to have an aid until he can get better, and that aid happens to be a young man named Keith. The two fall deeper in love, the more they spend time with each other, seconds, minutes, hours, days, they are attached like a needle to a thread. Although their intimacy is no game, Keith has trouble with commitment, the solid walls around him fading to glass.





	1. dimly lit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyoooooo, i'm not satisfied with the beginning, i did post it in a rush, so i am working on it :)))

Lance never thought he'd be in this position, lying on a hospital bed for week after an accident while hiking with his friends.

 _But No_ -

          He thought he'd finally be able to tell his roommate that he finally achieved something under the fun category instead of sitting in the dorm all break re-watching The Notebook and Dirty Dancing.

                But all fun things must come to an end, especially if Lance is the one who's trying to maintain it. The distraught in his face after the doctors told him that he couldn't walk for a long while, 2-3 years, had supposedly made it almost unbearable to look at him.

    His fist clench in irritation, the stitches on his hand almost tearing apart due to the sudden movement.

                His whole body is in pain, from his feet, that he can't feel, to his head. A white bandage is wrapped across his forehead to the back of his head and twirled around to the top, his stomach to his chest were wrapped around as well. Band-aids are crawling up both his arms, an IV stuck in his right forearm, his legs are molded over with baby blue casts, but for some reason he can still feel the ache within thighs and calves.

                Lance shouldn't be able to endure anything because of the morphine that the nurses gave him, he should be numb all over. But he isn't. He feels everything that happened that night, emotions and all. He knows that this isn't going to be well forgotten, the reminder of his paralyzed legs allows him to acknowledge that even if he tried to forget, they would just mock him.

                He groans, tears collecting in his dull blue eyes, a sob forcing its way out of his sore throat. His head begins to ache at that, the tiny droplets retreating from his eyes and cascading down like a stream. His friends left an hour ago to their buddies house, giving him even more time to talk down to himself. This isn't what he wanted, this isn't what he asked for.

                The memory eats at him like a vulture chowing down on a carcass, he closes his exhausted eyes.

\---------

                Lance had never thought that the sun would be brighter than it already was when he was dancing away on the beaches of Cuba, but oh boy, was he mistaken. He and his closest pals, Hunk and Pidge, had joined him on the quest of climbing the Appalachian mountains in Kentucky for their Fall break. The state was beautiful, Lance couldn't agree more, but he misses Cuba more than anything.

                He moved to America when he was 13 due to the damage done at his household and he's never let go of the thought of going back to see his Great Abuela who was left behind, mostly because she was the reason they countries, but he won't get into that right now. The trees mostly shaded every part of his neighborhood when he lived there, lucky to get away from the sun on the really hot days and eat blueberry popsicles with his sister Veronica and his cousins Rico and Mateo.

                He shook his head, not wanting to get homesick of Cuba, and instead took out his phone and snapped a photo of the sun leaving it's shift, the moon slightly visible and waiting to take over.

                "Do you have to take a photo of everything?" Pidge asked, their face red from the beams of the yellow ball of gas that was hanging higher in the sky earlier.

                "Yes, yes I do." Lance remarked, quickly flashing a photo of Pidge and Hunk who seemed annoyed.

                "We need to set up camp," Hunk said, his breathe almost gone as he reaches the top of the flat surface of one of the levels of the mountain, "here is fine."

                Lance looked around to examine the light brown dirt that lied across the area, little patches of grass and flowers spread throughout, along with trees that held various colors of leaves. He sat his bag down soon after Pidge and Hunk do, his body finding a knocked over log and sitting on it.

                "Should we start the fire now?" Pidge asked, looking over the perimeter and pulling out a box of matches and old newspaper.

                "Yeah, we can roast marshmallows and hotdogs." Hunk grinned, opening the cooler he bought at one of the markets in Gatlinburg, setting it down and reaching & tossing the hotdogs and s'more supply beside him.

                Silence swept over them, Hunk and Pidge looked over at Lance, concern in their eyes.

                "Is he okay?" Hunk asked, acting like Lance wasn't even in their presence even thought they were staring straight at him.

                "God I sure hope so." Pidge answered, their eyebrows furrowed and their mouth in a frown.

                "Of course I'm okay." Lance tried to say, but his voice was muffled by something.

                He began to panic, feeling a pressure on his chest, his head lashing around as he tried to find the source of his pain, but all he sees his darkness, and all he hears in the sound of creek water from a few levels below.

                He soon realizes that he's falling.

_All over again_

\-----

Lance wakes up in panic, his mouth letting out a hoarse scream as he sits up, ignoring the pain in his abdomen and head.

                "Woah! Woah! Lance buddy! Calm down!" Hunk appears, rushing to his friends side, his dark brown eyes mixed with worry.

                Lance stops screaming, his body shaking as he lets out a cry, his hand over his mouth as he feels bile running up his throat.

                "Get the trashcan." Hunk says, looking over his shoulder at Pidge, who Lance had not noticed until now.

                Once the trashcan is received, Pidge slightly pats Lances back and Hunk stands up to do the same. The amount of vomit coming from his mouth surprises him, he knows for sure that he hasn't eaten in 3 days, so he shouldn't even be able to spit so much up. His eyes become hazy, all the liquids finally stop coming from his mouth.

                He slowly blinks, trying to gain his sight again, the splashing color of red in the white bag staring back at him as he tries not to scream.

                "Holy fuck, is that blood?" Pidge asks, quickly glancing at Hunk as he too stares down in shock and disgusts.

                "I'm going to go get a nurse." Hunk informs, darting from the room and running where Lance guessed that most nurses are.

                Lance slowly sits back into the cushioned pillows, his eyes tiring yet again.

                Pidge clears their throat, moving to a seat on the left side of his bed, a large window behind them that was covered in blue curtains, white cherry blossoms sewed into them.

                "We called you parents." They say, looking up at the miserable looking young adult.

His hand removes itself from over his mouth as he asks, “and?"

                "They're thinking about sending you home with an aid, since they're supposedly cheaper here than in our home state…."

                "Oh."

                Lance isn't in the mood to argue, his throat felt like cat scratched in open from the inside and his body well, his body felt like he got ran over by a stampede of rhinos.

                "I'm so sorry Lance," Pidge says, their voice laces with regret, "we should've went with you."

                Lance looks over at them, tears shining in their eyes as they look up, a expiated sigh leaving their mouth.

                "It's neither of your guy's fault, I wanted to explore a bit before the sun officially went down." Lance replies, his fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose as he tries not to warp back into the accident.

                "Yeah bu-"

"I don't want to talk about it anymore." Lance snaps, the croak signifying that he really wasn't ready for this talk yet.

                "Sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

                ".....Sorry."

Lance grunts a little bit at that, the annoyance is evident in his eyes.

                Footsteps echoed in the room as Lance and Pidge both looked up to meet Hunk standing beside, Lance assumed, doctor who was Korean, his hair is short light grey hair and dark brown eyes, a scar running across the bridge of his nose. He clears his throat before staring right into the sapphire eyes, that are full of discomfort, of his patient.

                "Hello there Lance, I'm your doctor, Takashi Shirogane, but you can just call me Shiro." He smiles, wrinkles scrunching together below his eyes as he reaches his hand out for a handshake.

                Lance avoids eye contact with Shiro, his mood dropping 10% because he needs someone to take care of him after _carelessly_ falling from a mountain.

                "Hunk here told me that you were puking up blood," Shiro releases Lances hand, looking over the paper and clipboard in his other hand that was enclosed by a blue latex glove, "which is normal for the condition you are in."

                Lance's eyebrows etched in a confused way, his eyes wavering at the said Doctor

                "Well you did fall almost 13 feet from a mountain, and in doing so you fractured a handful of bones and bruised a lot of your muscles, you will need a lot of surgery Mr. McClain, but if we’re lucky we can get a new spine implanted quickly." Shiro informs, hanging the clipboard on the nail sticking out by the door.

                Lance looks down, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone, shame filling his body as he realizes how stupid he is for trying to do things on his own.

                "Don't look so guilty, it's not your fault, you're young and full of adrenaline," Shiro says, beaming down on the scarcely looking boy, "me and my fiancé used to do the same things when we were younger."

                "You're marrying Adam?" Pidge asks, their eyes wide and full of excitement, "I want an invite!"

Lance looks over at them, his face scrunched up in confusion as he mouths, “shut up please.”

                "You know I wouldn’t miss on inviting you and your rat of a brother." Shiro jokingly says, his face turns red at the mention of his fiancé.

Shiro shakes his head and turns stern as he meets Lances gaze, "I informed your parents that you needed an aid for a couple of years until you get your composure back and the electric simulators created,” Shiro bites the bottom of his lip, his eyes looking around like he’s thinking of what to say next, “since your parents can't really afford that right now, I offered them my younger brother for your new caretaker."

                At that, a man about Lance's age steps in, his skin the same color of the porcelain dolls that sat upon the shelves of his Abuela's home, his dark gray puppy eyes seeming lost, his lean figure entrapped in a red sweater and black leggings, a pair of cream vans on his feet. Lance can't stop looking at his face and long ebony hair, it is up in a bun, and his cheek seems to be scarred from the right of his chin and to a few inches below his eye.

                _Wait a minute, he’s the guy who was at the party at our buddies the night before the hike._

                He seemed out of place, not in a bad way, but not in a good way either. The hesitance in his movement as he stepped closer to the bed started to make Lance nervous.

                "Uh Shiro, is this is the guy?" He asks, his voice wavering as he stares into the blue eyes of the boy he somehow doesn’t recognize.

                "Ah yes, Keith, we were just talking about you." Shiro says, walking over to said Keith and grabbing him, pushing him towards the bronzed boy.

                "Hey," Lance manages, his voice still scratched up, "aren’t you mullet man?"

Keith squints his eyes, confusion evident on his face, “who are you?”

                "Oh my god." Pidge tries not to snort, their hand slapping into Hunks upper arm as they wheeze.

                Lance doesn’t make any sudden movements, his mouth agape as he puts his chin up, his eyes rolling and he whispers a “never mind.”

                 Keith doesn’t say anything as he starts stepping away from the divan, turning to Shiro and grabbing his brothers arm. He walks out of the room, dragging his brother behind and slams the door shut.

                "Was it something I said?"

\-------

                "C'mon Keith, he really needs it." Shiro whispers, his arm releasing from Keith's grasp as he stands outside the room that held Lance.

                "You can't expect me to take care of someone who obviously can't manage to take care of himself." Keith shrills, his arms flapping as he feels the looks of the nurses and doctors passing by.

                "That's literally your job, plus it seemed like he already knew you." Shiro says, a stern look on his face.

                "For the wrong reason?! Plus now if he states that he knows me, I sure as hell don’t know him.., and I don’t want to go back to Texas Shiro, I just got here." Keith whines, his foot almost stomping until he realizes that he's a grown ass adult now.

                Shiro pinches the bridge of his nose, slumping back on the wall behind, "this isn't up for negotiation, plus it'd be nice to finally have you go and actually find someone who isn't a one-night stand."

                "So what you're saying is that you're setting me up with a disabled dude?"

                Shiro gives him the dad stare at that comment, his teeth gritting, "this isn’t something to take lightly Kogane,” Keith swears under his breath before Shiro continues, “also he won't be disabled for long after the spinal surgery and if you help him practice walking Keith, you seem to forget that I couldn't use my arm until May of last year."

                Keith stops at that, his eyes closing as he takes a deep breath in, "only 3 years?"

                "Uhm…about 3 years."

\-----

Lance looks up from his lap as the door reopens, Keith and Shiro reentering the room.

                "So where are we going?”


	2. bury a friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this story is going by quickly, but i'm only planning on making it 10 chapters

The only problem that Keith had was that he had to carry all of Lance’s unnecessary baggage  from the taxi to his van, and for some reason he knew that Pidge wasn’t helping on purpose, but Hunk would stop and set his stuff down by the van, owned by Shiro, and help Keith out when he needed it.

                Lance strolled down the sidewalk in a wheelchair, his body in normal clothing now that he was signed out of the hospital.

                He wore a grey t-shirt that showed off the scars and bruises forming on his skin, his legs were wrapped up in black sweatpants, covering up his for-now paralyzed legs. They thought the casts weren’t particularly needed due to the reason that it can’t sense anything anyway.

                Keith hurriedly stuffed Lances and his stuff in the back of the van, walking over to Lance and grabbing the back of his wheelchair, wheeling him to the mobile.

                “You shouldn’t wheel yourself Lance, your arms are still injured.” Keith states, looking over at the grumpy face that Lance now had.

                “Why are you so mean to me.” Lance groans, the medicine in his body still wavering over him as he starts chuckling.

                “I’m not mean, I’m doing my job.”

                “Is your job to be mean?”

                “What? No, I just said- ugh never mind.” Keith grunts, pushing the wheelchair to the opened trunk and looking over at Hunk.

                “I’ll carry him to the backseat, do you think you can fold up the chair and place it in the back?” Keith asks the Hunk, Hunk’s lovable chubby face nods at his request.

                Keith thanks him, his body moving to the front of Lance and placing his arms under the scrawny boys knees and back, he looks into his clear caerulean eyes, “you ready?”

                Lance slowly nods, watching Keith’s face enflame in an anxious blush as he picks him up.

                The Cuban wraps his arms around Keith, trying to hold himself up more so he doesn’t drop. Keith tightens his grip as Pidge opens the side door, presenting the backseat to the two. Lance releases his hold as Keith sets him down, climbing over him and sitting next to him, his hand finding the belt and buckle, buckling him up.

                “Did you guys drive here? Because we can go pick your car up from where you’re staying.” Keith says, sitting a seat away from Lance and buckling himself.

                “No, since our buddy Rolo and Nyma live here they picked us up and dropped us off at the hotel because Hunk forgot to fix up his car.” Pidge answers, aggravation on their face.

                “It’s not my fault my dad didn’t help me change the transmission oil.” Hunk rolls his eyes, turning on the ignition and taking the vehicle out of park, pressing on the gas and strolling towards the highway.

                Pidge folds their arms over their chest, slumping in the front seat, their olive eyes glancing back at the two boys in the back.

                Hunk reaches over to turn the radio on, his eyes tracing over the time which reads 9:30am. Ariana Grande reaches the speakers of the van, Lance’s mood going up a bit because well, it’s Ariana.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                **_You like my hair gee thanks, just bought_**

**_I see, I like, I want it, I got it_ **

Lance looks out the window as he watches the clouds collide with each other, his lips syncing with the words, his arms aching from the lack of morphine left in his body.

To Lance, everything is moving too quickly, his stay in the hospital, his meeting with his new caretaker, and the poignant automobile he is currently in. Hunk eyes meet Lance’s in the rearview mirror, a sympathetic smile left on his face as Lance looks away.

 

\---

It’s been 4 hours since the car ride, Hunk pulls into a 7 eleven, slowly pulling up to a gas pump. He carefully shuts the vehicle off, slipping out of the drivers door and quietly shutting it, not wanting to wake Pidge up. Lance looks over at Keith who is staring at his phone, a photo of a girl who couldn’t be more than 5 on the screen, her dark hair put up in pigtails and a cowboy hat placed upon her head. She had a smile on her face, a tall bulky man behind her posing in a “yeehaw” position as he stands on a hay stack.

Lance raises an eyebrow, slowly leaning over to look closer. Keith feels a presence near him and turns his head to see the jumbled boy, his mouth slightly open as he unintentionally puts his cheek on Keith’s shoulder.

“Um…can I help you?” Keith says, dazed.

                “Huh?” Lance queries, slowly backing up, “oh uh…sorry I didn’t mean to, I was just curious and I guess it got to my head, sorry.”

                “You don’t need to apologize, it’s just a picture of me and my father.” Keith says, showing the screen to the azure inquisitive eyes.  

                It confuses Lance for a second, taking in every detail of the photo. A red barn sits on the right, it’s old and faded, the doors wide open, a field of corn hidden behind the barn, a tall man with brunet hair standing upon a stack of hay with a piece wheat sticking out his mouth, his thumbs in the front belts of his faded jeans.

                Lance honestly didn’t know how he hadn’t realized that that was Keith before, he had the same eyes, but now they’re gloomier, and same beautiful dusky hair.

The drivers door opens and Hunk slips in, his hands full with a cupholder that held 4 fountain drinks, one being a red and blue mixed freeze. He shuts the door and looks over his shoulder as Lance sits back into his seat, folding his arms over his chest. Hunk hands the freeze to him and a fountain drink to Keith with a smile.

                Keith thanked him, setting the cup in the cup holder and placing his phone in his back pocket, his eyes swarming over to Lance’s gloomy face, a frown imprinted on his lips as he held up the clear cup with slushed colors.

He doesn’t bother asking Lance what was wrong, seeming as the guy has to go through imperiled surgical operation and he undoubtedly has trouble breathing. Lance’s facial appearance seems pasty, even though Keith can see him as anything but light-skinned.

The bags under Lances eyes remind Keith of when he was 11, missing 2 weeks of slumber after his father passed away. The obscure sacks that hung below Lance’s eyelids were darker than the midnight sky, that had been hidden by veil of storm clouds. It made him fear that Lance will be losing more sleep than he ever had, a near death experience can make your life full of chaos.

The vehicle goes into motion after Hunk and Pidge set their drinks in their holders. The radio once again booming some sentimental tune from the speakers of the van as Lance leans his head against the wintry window. Keith inhales deeply, his calloused fingers playing with his mobile device as he turns it on and unlocks it, the brightness of the device reflects off his pale complexion.

“Do you guys have an aux cord?” Keith asks, looking up from his phone.

“Uhm yeah we do, but don’t play any emo shit, Lance can’t handle that right now.” Pidge says, the last part coming out as a whisper.

Keith nods in response, taking the black cord that Pidge hands him, plugging it into the headphone jack of his gadget. His thumb scrolls, pressing down on the Spotify app and choosing a song, allowing the melody to play throughout the space they were wedged in.

**_What do you want from me_ **

**_Why don’t you run you from me?_ **

**_What are you wondering?_ **

**_What do you know?_ **

“Huh, didn’t see this one coming.” Pidge remarks, glancing back at Keith as he slightly scowls at them, his nose twitching.

Lance snickers at that, but it sounds more miserable than he intended it to. Hunk takes a quick peak at the boy who was on the edge of isolation, his slight grin turns into a grimace expression, his arms fold over his waist.

Keith knows that apart of his job is to comfort his patients, but this is the first time he’s ever worked with someone his age, let alone that the boy is enticing.

Gathering up enough courage, Keith scoots closer to the wounded boy, reluctant to wrap his arm around him. Lance looks up, his stern eyes turning soft as he meets Keith’s opaque spheres, his weak body leaning against the warm boy, a sob almost escaping his throat as he anxiously rubs his numb thighs as he drifts off.

Keith tenses up unexpectedly, his heart suddenly beating rapidly as Lance's freezing skin makes contact with his. He slowly leans his head down on the cushioning of Lance’s hair, his arm snaking around the boys abdomen as the heat eases his stiffness.

**_When we all fall asleep, where do we go?_ **

 


	3. alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance starts relying on Keith, and maybe falling in love.

 Lance awakes to the car parked in a motel’s lot. The glowing neon sign standing above the building saying _“Kerberos Motel”_ in a hot pink, an outline of blue around it making the words pop. The young bronze man raises an eyebrow, listening to the chatter outside his window as he spots Hunk talking to a bulky man with ear-length black hair, one singular braid hanging down to his shoulder, his figure wearing a dark purple shirt and blue jeans.

The stranger hands his buddy a set of two keys. A grin plastered on the mans face as he says   something to Hunk, patting him on the back as he walks away, into what Lance assumes is the checkout/in area of the establishment. He feels something shift next him, his eyes dance to over his side to discover his caretaker leaning against him in a deep rest. The breaths are soft that come from Keith’s pale, chapped lips, his long dark eyelashes shifting as he furrows his eyebrows into a painful motion.

He can’t help but admire the scene, even though he’s only been with Keith for over ten hours.

As his thoughts are dragging him through, he gets startled by the movement of the car door sliding open beside him, his body automatically sitting up straight and waking up the man who was at peace talking with sleep.

“Huh-..what.” Keith grunts, rubbing his eyes as he feels his shoulder rub up against Lance’s, his figure retracting away from him.

“Good morning sunshine.” Pidge says, an amused smirk playing on their face as they turn in their seat and stare at the pair of exhausted boys.

“Hey Pidge, mind lending a hand instead of bothering them with your so called “teasing”?” Hunk asks from Lance’s open door, the cool breeze swarming in like a flock of doves.

Pidge groans a “fine” before their body slowly, but surely, moves from the passenger seat and out the window of their car door, their tiny hands gripping the top of the van as the rest of their body moves out from the vehicle.

Keith opens his mouth but says nothing, his lips sealing once again as Hunk raises Lance’s feeble body from his spot. His brunet hair is a mess, his eyelids are still droopy. But he manages to stay awake to watch Keith climb out of the van with the hospital blanket that had been sitting underneath them. The white fiber cover was thrown on Lance’s body, capturing him up in warmth as Keith held out his arms, waiting for Hunk to hand him over.

“We can leave the wheelchair in the van since there’s not point in wheeling him around when I can just carry him to our room.” Keith informs, feeling the weight of Lance within his limbs as Hunk set him down in his arms.

“Our room?” Lance asks tiredly, lazily stretching his hands over his wounded stomach.

“Yeah, I mean if Hunk and Pidge don’t mind. Since I’m your concierge I’m going to have to be with you 24/7.” Keith responds, mostly directed the answer to Lance’s two best friends.

Hunk just nods in agreement, looking over to Pidge who just shrugs while receiving their luggage. Lance murmurs something under his breath as Hunk passes Keith one of the pair of keys he was given.

“Just be careful with him.” Hunk says, worry evident in his voice as his hand holds onto Keith’s shoulder.

“You don’t need to worry about that, I’ll handle him like he’s glass.” Keith assures, turning and heading towards the building.

Keith looks up at the dimming sky, the sun is setting as the blue firmament is mixing with the slight rosy shades that are overhead of the horizon. The neon sign lights kisses both Lance’s and Keith’s skin, the atmosphere shifts to a lower temperature as they head under the area of where all the doors stood.

Upon searching for their room, Keith staggers upon a door with golden numbers embedded into the white cracked wood, A104.

“Is it okay if I set you down on the ground?” Keith queries, his voice soft.

Lance gives him permission, his hand touching the cool azure wall as Keith gently sets him down on the sidewalk, the blanket draping over his limp body. Keith pushes the key in the lock, turning it as he looks over to the distressed boy who was slumped against the pest ridden wall.

The door creaks open, the smell of dust and deep-rooted fashion filament fills Keith’s nostrils. His figure leans down as he swoops Lance up, the sudden extra weight making his body move faster towards the floral mattress that sat right against the corner of the room, the large window that showed the outside world above it. The walls were painted a baby blue, the color bringing out the portraits of painted pink carnations and white tiger ligers that hung on the thin, rusty, nails that were wedged into the wood.

The ceiling was made of white plaster, two lights were orbed and yellow, hanging down only 2 inches. The boy held onto Lance as he stood on the cream carpet, his eyes scanning the area and detecting out a massive red stain that lied within the cotton of the flooring, right before the dark oak dresser that had a boxed tv standing on top of it.

 The bathroom, Keith assumed, was behind the coffee-colored door that sat in the opposite corner of the bed.

“Please don’t set me down on that bare bed.” Lance whines, his hands clasping around Keith’s neck as he looks up with puppy eyes.

Keith sighs, confusion settling in his mind as he realizes that the bed was indeed, bare.

 _Shouldn’t they change covers of the mattress every time someone leaves?_ Keith thinks, slowly placing Lance down on an old Victorian chair that sat by a tall, slim lamp that had been over by the bathroom door.

“This room is as ugly as the scar across my stomach.” Lance jokes, tightening the blanket around him.

Keith shakes his head at that, deciding not to make comment at Lance’s ridiculous witticism. He looks over to the open door, seeing that Pidge stood their silently, a navy blue suitcase in left hand and a dark maroon gym bag in their right.

“I got your shit.” They say, placing it down on the entrance of the room.

“Uhm, thanks.” Keith awkwardly smiles, giving a little wave as Pidge turned around, leaving the guys.

Keith takes the baggage, tossing them over by the dresser as he slides his hands between the strands of his hair, a sigh leaving his pale lips.

“I’m going to go find out why we haven’t received any covers.” Keith says, looking over to see that Lance had fallen asleep, back leaning deep into the seat, his head dropped on his shoulder.

Keith smiles lightly, worry in his mind as he thinks that Lance is going to wake up with a sore neck, “ah well.”

He leaves the room, quietly shutting the door on the way out.

When Keith arrives back to the room he hears wailing. Not the kind of wailing from a baby who needs fed or changed, wailing from a man who has emotional wounds and triggering memories. Keith throws the comforter that the maid gave him over his shoulder, the pillows that are in his hands fall to the sidewalk as he quickly takes out the key, inserting it and turning it several times, his body slamming against the door until he gets the direction of the knob right. He hears the click and remains to harshly push his body against the frail door, opening it wide as he almost falls forward.

Keith looks up to meet forlorn, cobalt irises, Lance’s tear ducts full of salty liquids. The sobbing boys face was as red as a ripe cherry, his body shaking like a string of a guitar that just got strummed.

 He somehow had fallen onto the floor while Keith was away, making him wonder what the hell happened.

“Lance?” Keith calls out his name, getting onto one knee as he puts his hand on the boy who starts sniffling, his hands falling from his mouth as he wipes his snot with his bony wrist.

“It’s okay Lance. I’m here.” Keith reassures, his arms wrapping around the boy, hearing another cry leave his quivering lips.

Keith acknowledges the fact that it’s probably not all that comforting that a total stranger is within his miserable reach instead of a familiar face;, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He has to nurture Lance, even if he’s uneasy of the outcome. His calloused fingers brush over Lance’s skin, rubbing his arms smoothly as he whispers over and over again, “it’s okay”, as if he were a newborn child that had woken from his sleep.

Lance stops for a moment, his head ducking into Keith’s chest as he takes in a deep inhale, his breath stuttering.

“I’m going to get the bed ready, alright? I think it’s about time for us to sleep.” Keith mutters in Lance’s flushed ears, he responds by nodding.

Keith gradually lets go of Lance, suddenly missing the warmth.

_Wait-what?_

He shakes his head, feeling a tug at his pants leg as he looks down, spotting Lance looking up at him.

“Yes?”

“I…..Thank you.”

 

 

Keith can’t seem to meet the alluring of sleep as he feels the pressure of Lance’s body against his and the feel of his shuddering breaths, the azure eyes opening almost every other hour.

He won’t lie, he’s troubled by Lance’s aftermath from lack of sleep than his own. He doesn’t want him to be lethargic throughout the next day, though he should be lucky because it helps him take better care of a weary person who won’t put up a fight. But also Pidge and Hunk won’t be very forthcoming about Lance hardly getting any slumber as well. With an exhale, Keith wraps his bare arms around Lance’s delicate stomach, bringing him closer so they both won’t be freezing from the a/c that they can’t turn off.

He feels the other boy lean further into his body, a small grunt leaving his lips as Lance unconsciously rubs the top of his head against his chest.

Keith feels his face heat up, his breath getting caught in his lungs. His slim fingers find their way into Lance’s hair as he curls between the russet curls. Keith’s pupils follow the dark dots that scattered within Lance’s face, hardly visible unless you’re 5-6 inches from his face and under a light, but his light being the glow from the full moon that took over the Suns shift.

The pale boy drags his other hand over Lance’s face, tracing his freckles. The tan boy replies to the affection by leaning into his palm, almost surprising Keith.

“What time is it?” Lance’s croaky voice asks, his eyes halfway covered by his eyelids.

Keith lets go of Lance’s face, his hand searching around for his phone, his fingertips feeling the cold center of his screen as he taps twice, watching the glow reflect onto the walls.

“5:47am.” Keith responds, feeling Lance take his hand that was on his phone as place it back on his face.

“Let’s get up in 2 hours….” Lance yawns, once again letting himself settle into sleeps presence.

Keith shyly begins to caress Lances skin again, his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, and his chin are graced by the cold boys touch. His other hand and arm are occupied under Lances side, his palm his back as he hears him hum, sounding satisfied.

 “This isn’t so bad after all.”

 

“Keith. Keith. Keith. Keith.”

Keith swats at the lips that are right next to his ear, coming to a conclusion that Pidge postponed a while before deciding to wake them up, seeing as they don’t look as tired as he feels.

“Get up lover boy, we gotta get back on the road. 9 more hours left.” They grin, poking his and Lance’s cheek before leaving.

Lances torso rolls over onto Keith’s chest as he huffs, looking over the room before raising his upper half by his arms, slanting over Keith’s body.

“Hi.” He mutters, his nose touching the flustered boy below him, his eyes swarming with interest.

“Hey.” Keith replies, placing his hands over Lances chest as he raises him up, his own body sitting up as well.

Keith sees a small pout forming on Lance’s face before it’s replaced with a hesitant grin, his legs remaining slung over the covers.

“Did you want to take a shower or a bath?” Keith asks, his hands moving to Lance’s thighs and calves, rubbing them to feel the loose muscle.

Lance glances over Keith’s movements before answering, “if you don’t mind I’d like to take a shower then a bath…as long as you’re in there with me.”

Keith’s face manages to blossom into another blush, slowly signaling that he’s up to it. After all, he is here to take care of him, and maybe, just maybe, fall in love with him.


	4. Chapter 4

It was 9 and a half hours before the four actually reached their destination in Texas and to Keith’s apartment, where they dropped Lance and him off, telling them that they’re going to go back to their houses before actually coming back and hanging around.

Lance has been clinging to Keith’s side like a spider to its web, his arms won’t let go of him unless Keith has to use the restroom or change his clothes.

It’s odd how he’s become attached to someone he hasn’t known for that long, maybe the drugs haven’t worn off after all.

“Keith.” Lance mumbles into the nape of his neck, his legs lounged out onto Keith’s crossed legs, their bodies close together as they rest on Keith’s beige cotton couch.

“Yes?” Keith asks, his hand resting on Lance’s thigh as his other one controls the satellite remote, switching the channel to Discovery Channel.

“I’m hungry.”

Keith looks over to Lance, his eyebrows furrowed as he remembers that they both forgot to eat since last night, both of their stomachs empty as Lance pokes Keith’s shoulder, his head propping on the armrest.

“I’ll order something, do you have a preference?” Keith questions, looking at the blue boy.

“Uhm pizza is fine.” Lance responds, his hand suddenly grabbing Keith’s hand that was on his numb thigh, his face showing that he didn’t want Keith to get up to make the call.

Keith bites his lower lip, his stomach unexpectedly fluttering.

“What kind?”

“Hawaiian? Or….I mean regular is fine too…”

“No!” Keith shouts, his mouth becoming covered by his hand, feeling nervous as he looks at Lance’s jumbled face.

“Hawaiian is my favorite actually.” Keith whispers through his hands, watching Lances face brighten up, his eyes full of endearment.

       “Oh?...Hawaiian it is then?” Lance questions, his hands in his lap as he clenches the fabric of his sweatpants.

                “Yeah, Hawaiian it is.”

 

“Lance you can’t just sleep all day, I know you’re tired, but it’s nice out and I want you to get some fresh air, instead of all this toxic smoke...” Keith utters, his hand on top of Lance’s head as he takes as a huff from his cigar.

He hears a complaint noise from Lance, his tan arms swatting at the smoke as he looks up to Keith with a pout, irritation evident in his eyes.

“Sorry.” Keith sarcastically says, a smirk on his face as he puts the cigar out in an astray.

Keith noticed that it has been a week since he moved Lance into his studio apartment, not wanting to drive back and forth between the campus and his house. Lance had pretty much moved onto his couch, even though he wants Keith to be by his side 24/7, the reason being that Lance would have night-terrors that woke both of them up, and as soon as he decided to cuddle him back to sleep, it worked.

However, he wonders why his parents or siblings haven’t been over to visit Lance, even though he’s pretty sure they all live in Arizona. Which he’s not completely understanding why Lance would move away from his family, seeing as they’re all he ever yaps about.

“Okay.” Lance says, reaching his arms out like a toddler asking for their mother.

Keith slightly shakes his head, an amused grin on his face as he wraps his arms around Lance’s torso, sitting him up on the cushion behind him.  

“Let’s get ready.”

 

Keith strolls Lance down the sidewalk of the famous Texas town, Dallas. It wasn’t too hot out, which was weird according to Lance.   


“Where are we going?” Lance asks, the emotion on his face hard to read.

“I was thinking I could take you to this secret garden that I go to when I’m a damsel in distress.”

“Ah, that makes sense. I get injured but not by an individual and end up injured, and you swoop in, my hero, saving me from going insane.” Lance bites back, whipping his head around to glare at the startled Keith.

“That’s not what I meant.” Keith sighs, his hands gripping the handles as he pushes them towards a flower shop, cliché? Maybe.

“Then please Keith, enlighten me of the words that you spoke.”

“I meant that I know how it feels to be in the hands of someone you hardly know, and everyone wants to get away once in a while, especially me. So I want to bring you to this place because I actually care.”

_Oh wow. Did I really just say that?_

Keith stares at the back of Lances neck, watching as it flourishes into a deep-red-glow. He can’t lie and say that he wasn’t blushing either, because he was. He’s only know Lance for a week and a few extra days, he didn’t even expect for Lance to be so clingy or so, y’know, endearing. Keith isn’t even normally like this, not taking caution of his surroundings, actions, or comments.

When he speaks, his words spill out like a new, fresh pot of tea. So yeah, this is the motherfuckin’ tea, Keith might be falling for the other mans charm, and it’s scaring him. But Keith would never admit that, because if he did he might have to _purposely_ fall from a mountain.

He shakes his head at the thought, the victim of the incident in front of him.

“Why are we going into a flower shop? This isn’t very secretive, flower shops are gardens for everyone.” Lance puts his hands over his shoulders, leaning down and squinting his eyes to see through the glass door.

The name _“Galra Floret”_ was etched into the door in cursive, the letters remaining a light violet, the address and phone number right below in white, the thick lettering standing out from the dark purple framing.

“This is actually one of my jobs,” Keith answers, “and us employees get our own personal separate area where we get to pick out the flowers we want to see grow around each other.”

Lance doesn’t respond with words, rather with a hum while Keith pushes the fading-painted doorknob. The door opens with a ring, the little bell above vibrating and echoing through the store. The employee behind the counter doesn’t seem to notice their existence until Keith moves forward with Lance, the sound of the round, thin wheels of the chair making a smooth noise.

The person looks up from the cash register looks up, her pupils dilating as a smile forms on her face, “well hello there Keith.”

Keith rolls his eyes in response, a whisper leaving his lips, “hey Romelle.”

“I see you brought company, you here to buy your date some flowers?”

Keith’s stomach flutters, a small tint filling his cheeks.

“Could you just give me the key to the back?”

“Ah, so he’s a special one.” Romelle winks, her two blonde, long, pigtails waving around as she turns, her hands digging into a wooden cubie that lied behind the counter.

She wore a pink top with the shops name across it, the italic white fonts popping out across her chest. Her jeans were well, mom jeans, high waisted with a black belt roped around her stomach, the bottom rolled up to show off her socks that have succulents on them, her white vans completing her look.

Keith was quite jealous because Lance had just been staring at her the whole time, his face in awe. Yes, she was pretty, especially since she had a slim face, bright blue eyes and she was a girl. He doesn’t know if Lance even likes guys, and if he does Keith knows that he probably doesn’t have a chance.

Keith’s outfit just looks like he’s a hobo. Loose black sweatpants and a tight-fitting tank top that had the design from My Chemical Romance’s famous song, _Black Parade_ and a pair of checkered vans _._ No surprise there. Keith might dress like an e-boy on days to impress, but right now he just wanted to hurry to get out of the house, even if Lance pretty much wore the same outfit, but instead of tank top he wore a white t-shirt with a photo of a beet in after the words _bring the_ and before the another word, _in._

Keith didn’t understand it at first until Lance made him listen to the song from Beyoncé for almost 20 minutes.

“Aha!” Romelle exclaims, a silver key clutched in her hand as she turns, slamming it on the counter, “found it.”

“You do realize that it’s supposed to be in the drawer under the cash register, right?” Keith says, his voice kind of stern.

“I didn’t have it last,” she simply answers, putting her hands up in surrender, “Lotor was the last one to use it.”

A long sigh left his lips as he rolls his eyes, a quick “thank you” leaving his lips as he turns the wheelchair to the right, his eyes finding a dark brown door that had a “employees only” sign on it. The doorknob was curved, a button on top of it to press down in order for it actually open.

The shop was also very simple. The walls were like the font on the door, painted a light violet with little white flowers spread about. Plants and air-succulents hung from the ceiling, cactus and flowers (roses, lilies, orchards, ect..) lined up around on tables in various colors of vases and pots.

“Is this the classified area?” Lance jokes as they arrive in front of the entrance to the garden.

“Yeah.”

Keith proceeds to lean over Lances body, the key in his hand as he pushes it into the lock, fidgeting a bit due to Lance being right below him. The key keeps ignoring the hole, making Lance let out a sigh, his hand grabbing onto Keith’s and taking the key from his hand and into his own.

“Allow me.” Lance sarcastically says, shoving the key into the latch, hearing a click when he turns it.

Keith raises both his eyebrows in both shock and irritation, his conscious telling him that he’s pretty ignorant. Lance presses his thumb to the top of the handle, pushing the door open slightly.

The creak of the door lets the sunlight gleam through, spreading onto a small cactus with a hot pink flower on top of it. Keith rolls his eyes, almost shoving the wheelchair through the entry, the door fully opening and shutting behind them.

The surrounding was more than the Lance could take in, vines were drawn up the stone walls, a willow tree sat in the back corner of the yard with a small pond below it, his eyes catching a glimpse of a red and white koi fish, small leap pads floating on top of the water. The grass was a bright green, the flowers around them varied.  

Beside it lied little violets and small stones that lead to the dirt path that they were strolling on, a black gate at the end, spikes on the top of the fence that attached to it. Walls had enclosed this place, it wasn’t too big but it also wasn’t too small. It was perfect.

A wooden bench sat across the pond, a patch of sunflowers leaning behind the seat, shimmering in the sunlight. Keith had made his way over their with Lance, taking a seat while stopping that chair beside him.

“So?” Keith asks, leaning over to Lance, expecting him to be thrilled to be at this beautiful spot, but after a pause for a reply he doesn’t say anything, just stares at the sunflowers behind him.

Keith stares at his face, the expression unreadable as his face somewhat scrunches up, his muscle tensing up.

“Are you okay?”

Again, no reply.

He didn’t blink when Keith decided to grab his hand, clenching it.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?”

Lance shakes his head at that, squeezing the pale mans hand in reassurance.

Keith decides to allow them to sit in silence, the birds chirping as they fly away from the branches of the tree, going to the ground and picking at it, looking for something to feast on.

A blue and black butterfly delicately flaps its wings, it’s legs attaching to Keith’s head, its wings settling down. Lance averts his attention from the bright, tall plants, his eyes brightening up as he spots the insect, his mouth puffing up as he tries not to let out a laugh at Keith’s puzzled face.

“That’s cute.” Lance whispers, his other hand fishing out his cellular device from his jean pocket, quickly swiping his screen to the camera and snapping a photo of stunning pallid boy , the sun making the bug and the pale boy radiant, his round murky eyes had a glint of admiration in it, his tank top loosely hanging down, showing off his small, but notice able pecs.

Lance’s face suddenly flushes, suddenly choking on air as he accidentally takes a deep inhale.

Keith, going unnoticed of the situation, pats Lance on the back as he starts coughing from the choke, unbothered from the contact.

“You alright?” Keith asks, leaning down to him, the butterfly flapping away and onto a daffodil that strung along a bunch of white roses.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine.” Lance answers, feeling the heat from Keith’s hand stick to his back, the rubbing soothing him.

                Keith just nods in response, sitting back against the bench, his hand still tangled with Lance’s.

 

“I meant to ask,” Keith starts, his hands holding a pillow in his lap as he looks down to face Lance, his legs crossed, “are you….uhm interested in Romelle?”

Lance seems flabbergasted by the question, the arms wrapped around Keith loosen up he lifts his head from the boys lap, “uh what?”

Keith seems confused at, well, Lance’s confusion.

“Romelle, the worker at the shop that you were staring at?” Keith says, his eyebrow raised as he entangles his fingers through the brunets hair, his stomach churning.

                “I wasn’t staring at her,” Lance states, closing his eyes at the feeling of Keith’s slim fingers running through his scalp, “I was staring at the photo of you with you coworkers that was beside her.”

Keith feels relieved unexpectedly, wrapping his other arm around Lance’s torso as he remembers the photo that he took with Lotor and Romelle in front of the sunflowers in the garden. It was taken 3 years before the accident with Shiro, they all had worn a smile that day, their arms latched with each other’s and their skin glowing from the ball of fire in the sky.

“You looked very blissful.” Lance claims, moving closer to Keith’s belly, his head resting on it as Keith mover his legs under Lance’s.

                “I was, but since then, well, things have just been hard.” Keith informs, his eyes still on Lance.

                “I won’t push you to tell, just like you don’t with me.” Lance slurs, a grin playing on his lips as his eyes remain closed, squeezing tighter on the boy above him.

Keith isn’t surprised that Lance is tired, after the garden trip he had to take him to a therapist, not a physical one, psychological one. It was emotionally tiring for both of them when Lance left the room that Keith had stopped himself from entering with him, knowing that he hadn’t wanted to speak about it with a stranger, let alone with someone who was taking care of him. It’s a hard process, the tears had cascaded from his eyes like rain, and all Keith could do was hug him and whisper sweet nothings in his ear as they arrived back at their home.

_Their home...and Keith likes the sound of that..._

 


End file.
